


Alone

by Alyssa_85



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Arguing, M/M, drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:55:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27470833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alyssa_85/pseuds/Alyssa_85
Summary: Spain leaves Romano alone to get drunk one too many times.
Relationships: South Italy/Spain (Hetalia)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	Alone

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like it's been so long since I last wrote, longer since I wrote anything Hetalia related. After hearing the news of the new season I decided to rewatch it, and now I'm hooked again, especially on Spain and Romano. Might take me a while to get back into writing their characters as I'm so out of practice, but I hope you can enjoy nonetheless.

It started with Spain staying out at work later, leaving Romano to wait up until the early hours of the morning, only to come home steaming drunk. He continued to be all smiles and happiness with Romano, to begin with.

“Romanooo,” Spain slurred, slumping down on the sofa beside him, throwing an arm around his shoulders. “You didn’t need to wait up for me again!”

Romano didn’t say anything, just sat with his arms crossed, staring straight ahead.

“Romano?”

Again, Romano stayed silent. He wouldn’t give Spain the satisfaction of hearing the anger in his voice, he was sure that’s what the other nation wanted. After a few minutes of silence, Spain removed his arm, cocking his head in Romano’s direction.

“You’re mad.”

Romano rolled his eyes, getting to his feet. “I’m going to bed. Goodnight.” Without waiting for a response, Romano walked out, heading towards the spare room, rather than their shared bedroom. Spain didn’t follow, just watched as he went.

* * *

The next morning Romano was woken to the smell of omelette and coffee. He groaned, rolling over to look at the time,  _ 07:30 _ . Romano climbed out of bed, stretching out his limbs before getting dressed and heading downstairs.

Spain was bustling around the kitchen in just boxers and an apron. Romano remembered a time he would be flushed beyond belief at the sight, but now it just annoyed him.

“What are you doing up so early?” Spain snapped towards him, not having heard him walk in.

“Romano!” He greeted, plating up an omelette. “Do you want one?”

Romano shook his head. “I thought you’d still be in bed.”

Spain shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep.” He poured himself and Romano a coffee. “Sure I can’t tempt you?”

Romano took the coffee and sat down. “I’m fine. I’m going to head home today, Veneziano has been calling non-stop and I’m bored.”

“Oh, okay. When will you come back?”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Come back? Haven’t I been here long enough?”

“Long enough?” Spain cocked his head. “Roma is never here long enough!” He grinned wide. “I miss Roma when he’s not here.”

Romano scoffed. “Yeah, right.”

“Roma?”

“You’re never even here when I’m here, how can you possibly miss me?”

“What do you mean?”

Romano took a sip of his coffee, before setting it down and standing up. “You know exactly what I mean, Spain. I’ve been here for three weeks, you’ve been out for two and half of them. Coming home in the early hours, drunk out of your mind.” He clenched his fists at his side. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but that’s not exactly you being here, is it?”

“I was working.”

“Working doesn’t involve getting drunk every night and coming home smelling like some other guys cologne.”

Spain swallowed, setting his fork down. “...You think I’m cheating on you?”

“Well, aren’t you?”

“Of course not! I just… I just get carried away with France and Prussia, that’s all.”

“You’re supposed to be working! You can’t invite me here and then leave me all alone.”

“Well, technically I didn’t invite you this time, you just showed up.” Spain knew it was the wrong thing to say immediately. He watched Romano bite his lip, fists clenched so tightly at his side his knuckles were white. “Roma, I didn’t-”

Romano cut him off. “Well, don’t worry about me being here, I’ll be gone within the hour.” He turned on his heel ready to walk away but Spain was on his feet in an instant, grabbing his wrist.

“Romano, wait.” Romano tried to yank his arm away, but Spain’s grip never faltered. “I really didn’t mean it like that, I love you being here, you know that. I just need a break sometimes. You’re so angry all the time, I just need time with France and Prussia.”

“You can have all the time with them, then.” He pulled hard on his arm, loosening Spain grip enough for him to pull away. “I hate you. I hate being here. I hate how after all this time you still don’t understand me. I hate you.” He began to walk away.

Spain dropped his hand. “I understand you better than anyone, Lovino Vargas.” Romano froze at the use of his human name. “I understand you don’t mean ninety percent of the harsh things you say. I know you have trouble expressing your feelings, and I have never held that against you. Not in the hundreds of years I’ve known you.” He sighed. “And I won’t now. Go. I’ll be waiting here when you’re ready to talk.”

Romano turned on his heel to face Spain. “Are you really making me out to be in the wrong here? I’ve been here for three weeks waiting to talk! You’re the one that hasn’t been. You’re the one that hasn’t wanted to talk to me, I’m not going to let you make me feel bad here. I came here just wanting to spend time with you, and you left me for them. Every. Single. Night. I wouldn’t have cared if it was just once or twice, but you have spent barely any time with me.” Romano paused, glaring harshly at Spain. “Is that enough honesty for you?”

Spain stood in silence as Romano turned back around and stormed off. He knew Romano was right, he hadn’t been there. He sat back down heavily in his chair, omelette completely forgotten about on the plate beside him.

* * *

Romano sat down on the bed in the room he normally shared with Spain after packing his bags. “Stupid tomato bastard,” he groaned. “This is all his fault.”

Romano wasn’t sure how long he was sitting there before he heard a quiet knock on the door. “Romano?”

“Come in, it’s your room.”

Spain opened the door slowly, hovering in the doorway just watching Romano’s expression. Romano wasn’t looking at him, but Spain could tell just from the way his shoulders slouched he wasn’t angry. Just sad. “I’m sorry,” Spain finally said, walking into the room and closing the door behind him. “I’m sorry I haven’t been here. I’m sorry I made you feel like I didn’t want you here.” Romano still refused to look at him, so Spain knelt in front of him, tentatively taking his hands, and when Romano didn’t pull away, he continued. “I love you being here, Lovino. Truly. It’s just sometimes you’re a bit… much.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I know I should be used to it by now, but sometimes when you come here and act the way you do… Romano, it hurts. I act like it doesn’t bother me, I act like everything you says rolls off my back like it’s nothing, because I know it should. I know it shouldn’t bother me because you don’t mean it. But sometimes that gets hard.”

Romano finally looked up, catching Spain’s eyes. “You should say something.”

“Huh?”

“You should say something when I actually hurt your feelings. That’s never my intention, Antonio. I never want to really hurt your feelings, and if I do, please, tell me.”

“I just wish I knew why you find it so hard to tell me how you really feel sometimes.”

Romano sighed. “I don’t know. Years of abandonment and feeling inferior does that to a person.” He said it half-heartedly, but both Romano and Spain knew there was some truth to his words. “It’s just easier to pretend I don’t care, so when you inevitably let me down, it’s easier to walk away with my head held high.”

“When have I ever, in the past hundred years, made you feel like I was going to let you down, Lovino?”

“The past two weeks.”

“Before then. I have stood by your side, and you mine, for as long as I think either of us can remember. How many times have I got to tell you I’m not going anywhere before you’ll believe me? How many time have I got to tell you I love you before it’ll stick? Romano, I’m not going anywhere.” He squeezed Romano’s hands. “I’m so sorry for these past two weeks, if you stay, I’ll make it up to you. We can do anything you want, go anywhere you want. Just you and me.”

Romano wanted to, but he shook his head, pulling his hands away from Spain. “I can’t, Veneziano really has been calling me.” He stood up, moving to the side of the bed to grab his already packed bags. “I’ll see you at the world meeting next month.”

“You’re just leaving? Just like that?”

Romano held a hand out for Spain, pulling him to his feet when he takes it. “I’ll see you at the world meeting next month,” he repeated. “The seat next to yours, like always.” Romano pressed a kiss to Spain’s cheek.

“Romano?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I know.”

Without another word, Romano left the room, the door shutting softly behind him.


End file.
